[This call comes at about midnight. Before she speaks, there's a lot of fumbling. Her heels on the ground, liquid swishing around in a bottle, her hand brushing against the speaker. Her voice is a bit slurred.]
I--I don' know where I am. My bike is...it's somewhere. Prob'ly the same place with my jacket. It's dark. But there's a lot'a grass.
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Date: 2011-06-07 07:11 am (UTC)I--I don' know where I am. My bike is...it's somewhere. Prob'ly the same place with my jacket. It's dark. But there's a lot'a grass.